


The Christmas Gift

by saya4haji



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Christmas Presents, F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saya4haji/pseuds/saya4haji
Summary: Rosalie and Emmet's girlfriend wants to give them their Christmas gift in private, but it isn't what they expect at all. Will they even want it?A gift fic for UndineB, inspired by The Tossing Stones Series by PrincessAlexandria
Relationships: Emmett Cullen/Original Female Character(s), Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale/Original Female Character(s), Rosalie Hale/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	The Christmas Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UndineB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndineB/gifts).



> This oneshot is a Christmas gift for UndineB. She was telling me how much she missed the amazing Femslash works of PrincessAlexandria, in particular we were discussing a poly fic series called Tossing Stones which was set in the Twilight world. I hope this takes the edge off your craving Undine. 
> 
> To all other readers I highly recommend reading all the works of Princess Alexandria over on the other fanfic site. She writes amazing stuff in a variety of fandoms: True Blood, ST:Voyager, X-men, Gargoyles, Twilight etc. She writes some of the best OFC femslash I have ever read with amazing characterisation and patient story and world building. 
> 
> The OFC character in this story is called Banbha. This is an irish name. 'bh' in irish is pronounced as a 'v' sound so the name is pronounced Ban-vah. It is the name of an irish goddess sometimes also called Banba, a patron goddess of ireland associated with war and fertility.

My nerves are making my hands shake as I open the presents that the Cullen family has given me this year for Christmas. The family is arranged around a Christmas tree that vaults upwards a full two stories into the stylish cut out gallery that pierces the centre of this fabulous house. When I had first asked Esme if she had designed the entire house like a hollowed out cube simply so she could place the two story tree at its centre, she had demurred with the equivalent of a vampiric blush: the slightest darkening of her ghostly pale cheeks to antiqued ivory. Her youthful laugh and playful wink had made me smile then, and now as I sit gazing up at the tree which seems straight from a story book, I can’t help but feel lost in the surreal nature of the scene.

“Hey darlin’, if it’s not to your likin’ I can make you somethin’ else?” Jasper asks in clear concern. His empathy may not work completely right on me but even with it impeded he is one of the most observant and caring men I have ever met. He seems to have instinctively picked up on my nerves and uncharacteristic distraction.

I drag my eyes back to my lap and the exquisite reproduction trench knife that lays in the ruins of sparkling wrapping paper. I refocus on the beautiful craftmanship and run my fingers along the tan, hand stitched leather sheath. With ease I slip my hand into the D shaped hand guard, grip the smooth wooden handle and pull the blade free. The twinkling lights of the tree reflect off the shining blade. It is a piece of art, far more beautiful than any of the rudimentary and functional knives that would have been used in Jasper’s time during the civil war. The metal of the blade is flawless and polished to a high shine, the wooden handle is velvety smooth and the hand guard done in brass compliments the lightly varnished handle while offsetting the shining silver blade.

“You did beautiful work Jasper. It will make a fine addition to my collection. Thank you,” I whisper softly.

The knife is truly exquisite, and I am touched that the Cullen’s continue to indulge my odd fascination with all things sharp and shiny. My ever-growing collection of unique blades and artistic jewellery often has me feeling like a dragon with a growing hoard.

Jasper smiles in delight and Alice nudges him with an impish grin as she crows, “I told you she would love it!”

Jasper leans down to kiss her spikey haired head with an indulgent smile, “My apologies darlin’, I know I should never doubt your visions.”

I try to pull myself back into the moment and offer up another encouraging smile that fails to quite reach my eyes, “You will have to show me how you blended the brass of the handle and the steel blade together so flawlessly, I can barely see the seam.”

Jasper grins, “I’ll take you out to the forge tomorrow and show you how I did it.”

Jasper’s latest interest of blacksmithing has seen him recreating weapons from his human life and becoming something of an underground sensation in the online blade community. No-one knows who the talented JWC is, but his hand forged swords, knives and even his reproduction guns are becoming renowned for their craftmanship, attention to detail and quality. With Alice acting as co-designer, supernatural senses and strength to aid his growing skills, long nights of sleepless practice and my own newly growing skills in precious metal working, it is no wonder his work is in high demand. If only the customers knew that JWC was a vampire who had to wear a fire-retardant body suit when he works the forge.

My own skills in jewellery making are still quite rudimentary but I love working in my new corner of Jasper’s forge, practicing my skills and learning from the books, online classes and trial and error. Having the sudden financial freedom and support to pursue my artistic dream has been heaven. If only all artistic types could have vampiric benefactors with a clairvoyant stock trader in the family.

I lean back against Rosalie’s leg and I can feel Emmet’s calf brush against my shoulder too. They sit contented on the sofa behind me and without looking I can easily picture Emmet’s goofy smile as he soaks up the Christmas cheer like a sponge. Rosalie however, is more likely to have narrowed eyes and her polite smile on as she scrutinises me. I can almost feel her gaze burning into the back of my head as she tries to understand what is making my heart beat erratically and why I have been somewhat distracted on this fine festive morning.

Carlisle reaches beneath the tree to retrieve the next round of presents for everyone. With everyone seated on the sofas, chairs and floor around the tree in festive pyjamas it looks like a perfect Christmas family moment come alive from some TV sitcom. I can’t help my lips as they tick up in amusement at the fact that only Jacob, Renesmee and myself actually sleep. The pyjamas are a gift from Alice, one she seemingly gives every year, and which everyone dutifully wears on Christmas morning to open presents. I think everyone knows this is part of Alice’s attempts to recapture some of the human moments she has lost, so we all indulge her. Besides, it is funny getting to see Rosalie in flannel and Emmet in a onesie.

Jacob looks half asleep still and I can’t exactly blame him since it is 5:30am and he likely only got back from the midnight Christmas hunt with the Cullens a few hours ago.

Damn vampires.

An excitable Alice and Renesmee means we have all had to be up early to open presents and start the day. The Cullen’s have their own unique Christmas traditions is seems. They all went on a midnight hunt for Christmas dinner together last night, then came back in high spirts and waited until a seemingly semi-reasonable hour before waking me, Jake and Renesmee for gift giving. I assume that like last year, when this is done then Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Bella and Renesmee will head off to attend some Christmas day mass at one of the local churches as the only Christian adherents In the house. I plan to have a few more hours sleep and to be awoken by the promise of a festive breakfast before the day kicks off in earnest with a host of Christmas games, singing carols, festive films, dancing and attempts to help Esme cook the truly ginormous Christmas meal that Renesmee, Jacob and I will eat late tonight while we all talk and stories of past Christmases are exchanged at the table. Thank the gods for Jacob, because without him I have no doubt most of the food would go to waste and that would just be a sin.

Carlisle is handing out the last set of gifts which are from me. Most are handmade jewellery or little trinkets I have crafted. My latest experiments in lost wax technique have resulted in some decent silver pieces that I felt confident enough to give as gifts. Cufflinks with the Cullen crest for Carlisle who still likes to dress formally despite the modernising of the medical profession to allow for more casual dress. Matching hair pins for Esme, Bella, Alice and Renesmee. A musical note keyring for Edward’s new Aston Martin fob, a spanner keyring for Jacob’s keys to his garage in town, and a small silver letter opener knife in the shape of a Springfield M1861 for Jasper.

The Cullen’s ooh and ahh in all the right places and for the first time I feel like I have given them something that matters. Something I have made and that they will cherish. These gifts are proof that I am taking advantage of the opportunity they have given me to pursue jewellery making and precious metal working.

Carlisle reaches beneath the tree to retrieve my gifts to Rosalie and Emmet, the most important people in my life, but after a moment and resorting to almost crawling under the gargantuan tree he sits up with a confused expression, “I am afraid I can’t find your presents for Rosalie and Emmet Banbha, perhaps you forgot to bring them down?”

I smile weakly at Carlisle’s gentle suggestion and clear my suddenly dry throat, “Actually, I didn’t put their present under the tree. It is not something I can really wrap and so it is upstairs. I’ll give it to them once you’re all off to mass.”

Emmett guffaws, “Oh a private gift is it? I like the sound of that!”

“Emmet!” Rosalie cries and I can feel him topple to the side with a loud crack as she elbows him in the ribs.

I can feel my cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment and I swivel to glare fiercely at Emmet, “Get your head out of the gutter or you can sleep on the sofa until New Year!” I growl.

Rosalie’s reinforcing glare has Emmet trying to conceal his boyish, mischievous smile behind a wounded expression as he slumps on the sofa. He holds up his hands in surrender, “Okay, Okay! Sorry!”

Rosalie reaches forward to place her cool hand on my shoulder and I can feel the comforting chill leaking into my skin through my Harry Potter pyjamas. I tilt my head back to meet her golden honey eyes as she speaks, “Whatever you got us Banbha, I am sure we will love it.”

With that said she leans forward and presses a wintry kiss to the shaved side of my head which makes heat suddenly pool in my gut.

Alice huffs, crossing her arms and pursing her lips into a pretty pout, “This is so not fair. Your wall or shield or power fogging thingy means I can’t see what you will give them. You have to tell me, the curiosity will kill me!”

I smile shyly, “If all goes to plan Alice, I promise Rosalie and Emmet will tell you, and the whole family what I am giving them for Christmas.”

“Or maybe we will keep quiet and you will have to bribe us to tell you. I think giving us your new Porsche for the weekend we go away to New York might do it,” Emmet suggests with waggling eyebrows.

Rosalie laughs and her grin turns devilish, “Hmm, that does sound like a good idea!”

Alice pouts and skewers our trio with narrowed eyes, “Fine, you can have it for the weekend but I want to know what Banbha got you before the end of the day and you better not get a single scratch on my new car!”

Emmet and Rosalie high five and both simultaneously lean forward to drag me onto the couch between them for an impromptu hug, “Best present ever and we haven’t even got it yet. Being able to blackmail the psychic pixie is so much fun. I knew we kept you around for a reason!” Emmet chortles.

Rosalie squeezes me between herself and Emmet and snuggles her head beside my ear to whisper, “I can think of other more fun reasons for keeping you around.”

My heart rate instantly triples and the low burn in my gut ratchets up another notch as that smoky voice. My cheeks burn red as the Cullen’s all smile indulgently or shuffle uncomfortably at my reaction. Sometimes I wonder why Rosalie bothers whispering to me when she knows everyone can hear us anyway. Maybe it’s an intimacy thing, or maybe she just knows what that whispered tone does to me. The tease.

Alice huffs and then freezes as her eyes go vacant. Jasper tenses beside his mate as he always does when Alice becomes vulnerable while lost in a prolonged vision.

Alice’s little nose scrunches up and she shakes her head as she returns from her vision, “Eww! I said you’re not allowed to scratch my car, that means on the inside too Emmet! No having sex inside the car!”

Emmet roars with laughter while I want to crawl into the sofa cushions and die of mortification. Even after all this time and knowing everyone’s super senses make privacy more of a polite fiction than reality in this house, I feel deeply embarrassed. I blame those formative years of Catholic upbringing.

“It so isn’t fair that my so called powers can block most of your visions, but _that-that_ you see!” I moan dejectedly. Stupid shield or fogging effect. Why can’t it work all the time?

Alice shudders dramatically, “Tell me about it sister. I would much rather not see some of the things you three get up to but it seems where decisions are instigated or actions taken where Rosalie and Emmet are more influential I can still see you.”

Jacob throws up his hands in exasperation, “And on that awkward note I am going back to the cottage to get some more shuteye.”

Jacob scoops Renesmee up bridal style as she laughs and his long legs carry them to the French doors at the back of the house at a quick pace. The doors lead to the garden path which flows for almost a mile into the woods where Jacob and Renesmee’s cottage resides. While the rest of us can make do with excessive soundproofing, careful scheduling of private time in the main house, trips away or judicial use of the unspoken agreement to ignore any sounds which emanate from inside bedrooms, Jacob and Renesmee have always maintained a separate house from the main family. When I asked why, Rosalie had sniped that it was to keep Jacob’s wolfy stench from totally saturating the main house and Emmet said it was to try and reduce the chances of Edward murdering Jacob because he overhead him sexing up his precious daughter. Never mind that Renesmee had recently celebrated her forty-fifth birthday.

Edward calls out to the retreating figures, “We’ll be leaving for mass shortly Renesmee so if you’re coming then you had better hurry back!”

After a moment Edward nods as though hearing some reply my human ears can’t detect.

“Alright then, we’d best go and get ready for mass ourselves,” Carlisle declares and in the blink of an eye himself, Esme, Edward and Bella have disappeared upstairs with their new haul of gifts, and the torn wrapping paper is gone.

Sometimes I am very envious of Vampire speed.

Alice dances to her feet and twirls to face Jasper, “I have my own private gift I want to give to my Jazzy so we’ll be going for a walk in the woods.”

Alice give a roguish look to her husband and trails her hands suggestively down her silk pyjamas before tossing a wink at us over her shoulder and blurring out the French doors.

Jasper swallows with effort, his Adams apple bobbing, “Um, so…I’ll come back later to clear up our gifts and stuff but uh, yeah – bye!”

With barely a blink Jasper is gone too, the usually self-assured soldier reduced to a barely articulate teenager by his impish wife.

I can feel Emmet’s barrel like chest quivering with suppressed laughter beneath me.

“Would you like to go back to bed while the others are off at mass? It’s early yet and you had barely five hours of sleep last night. You really didn’t have to stay up to see us off on our hunting trip,” Rosalie suggests.

Inconveniently, my body chooses that moment to release a jaw cracking yawn and I have to sheepishly admit, “Maybe another couple of hours sleep wouldn’t go amiss.”

Before Rosalie can respond Emmet rises up, carrying me in a bridal hold, “Come on then squirt, we’ll put you to bed and then we’ll tidy up down here. Maybe do some prep for breakfast for Esme and then I can try out my new PS5 stuff.”

Knowing better than to argue I snuggle into Emmet’s broad chest, secure in the knowledge that he won’t let me fall. His Star Wars stormtrooper onesie is surprisingly soft against my cheek although I can’t help but wonder whether it is custom made because there is no way Disney made something of such a high quality and for someone of Emmet’s Herculean dimensions. Alice probably had them custom made. I suddenly pay closer attention to my own Slytherin Harry Potter pyjamas. Their luxurious lining is thick and soft. I suddenly have the realisation that the silver detailing is most likely actual silver thread and the soft but warm lining which lets me cuddle between Emmet and Rosalie when I am falling asleep without fear of getting a chill is likely real cashmere.

During my wool gathering Emmet has ascended the stairs and brought me back to our room. It is still funny saying that, ‘our room.’ I still have a room down the hall that is all mine and which I shared with Rosalie at the beginning of our relationship, but in the last year Rosalie and Emmet’s room has become our room. My stuff gradually migrating in with them as I became comfortable with Emmet and he with me. Poor Rosalie has been like a kid given the most precious glass ornament these last few months. Balancing both my and Emmet’s needs as she tries desperately to achieve a stable trio while combatting her fears of hurting either of us by pushing us in any way. I feel the Queen size bed dip under my weight as Emmet settles me into the centre of the bed. They must have turned the electric duvet back on when they got me up because it is pleasantly warm.

Emmet pulls the duvet up and brushes my hair aside. His hand slips across my cheek and away but before he gets too far I sit up and grasp hold of him. My tiredness suddenly leaving me and my nerves once again rising up as I contemplate what I am about to ask these people I have come to love. As I contemplate what I am about to offer them I feel old self doubts rise to choke my voice.

“Wait,” I whisper desperately. Emmet turns quickly but gently in my grasp and Rosalie, who had followed us up but waited at the door, now enters hesitantly.

“Would you- would you both lie down with me for a minute?”

Emmet smiles easily, “Sure.”

Rosalie looks more unsure, my unusual behaviour setting off alarm bells in her beautiful mind and I can see a thousand thoughts already racing behind her eyes. The slight tightening of her lips showing her fear. All things so small that almost everyone else would miss them.

Emmet casts Rosalie a comforting smile as he flops onto the bed above the duvet and snakes his arm beneath my head. His stone like body shouldn’t make a good pillow but there is something comforting in his presence that I have come to enjoy recently.

Rosalie hesitates at the foot of the bed before slinking forward to rest against my left side. Any other time such a move would send lascivious thoughts spiralling in my mind but between the uncharacteristic flannel and my growing anxiety at what I want to discuss, I can only offer her a weak smile.

We lay together for a minute in silence. I know my body is stiff and my heart must be racing a mile a minute, giving away my growing worry and apprehension. Our position in the bed feels unnatural too. Usually Rosalie is our centre and Emmet and I orbit her. The right side of the bed closest to the door is my usual spot. Closest to the exit for the bathroom if I need it and closest to a means of escape that my subconscious needs to feel safe. Most nights Emmet and Rosalie will only stay in bed with me until I fall asleep unless I am having trouble dropping off or am struggling with nightmares. Emmet isn’t built for staying still and quiet for hours and as much as he has grown to love me, I know that watching me sleep has to be dull. A fact he often teases Edward about since it was apparently something he did when Bella was still human.

Rosalie will lay with me for longer even while I sleep and from time to time, I will awaken to find her still there. She says that sometimes she enjoys watching me sleep. Seeing me so at peace and being free to cuddle me without feeling self-conscious. The urge to tease Rosalie had been strong but Emmet and I have an unspoken agreement that we will never do anything that might discourage Rosalie from expressing her feelings. Usually she is so guarded and careful with expressing any of the softer emotions which are part of our relationship and what she wants that even the smallest comment could cause her walls to raise back up.

Emmet was a godsend in trying to understand the complex and subtle indicators of Rosalie’s interest and love in the early days of our courtship. Her trauma as a human has an enduring effect on how she approaches relationships, family and expressing emotions that would have been a field of landmines if not for Emmet’s instinctive grasp of our shared mate and his decades of experience with her.

“Are you afraid you’ll have a nightmare?” Emmet asks softly.

I shake my head immediately even as my heart races and Rosalie grips my hand reassuringly.

Outside our room I can hear doors closing and the soft steps of Carlisle, Esme, Bella and Edward as they descend the stairs on their way to Christmas morning mass.

“You know you can talk to us about anything right?” Rosalie presses, her beautiful face pinched in concern.

I breath slowly and deeply.

“I know, I’m just nervous. I want to give you your Christmas present. Or rather, offer it to you at least, but I’m not sure if I am doing the right thing. It’s a complicated gift.”

The hum of voices downstairs precedes the front door slamming and a brief silence before the sound muffled sound of tyres on gravel echoes through the triple glazing.

“Whatever you give us, you know Emmet and I will love it. You don’t need to give us anything really, I’m just so happy that you choose to be here with us,” Rosalie whispers almost pleadingly.

Emmet nods, “Yeah, these last four years have been the happiest of our long lives Banbha. Sure, it was complicated in the beginning but where we are now is something I could never have imagined. I love you both.”

I can’t help the tremulous smile stealing across my face. “I love you both too. I know this wasn’t easy for you Emmet and I didn’t particularly make it easy on either of you with my issues and my…”

Emmet cuts me off, “Shh, none of that now. You loved Rosalie and she loved you. You are mates just as much as Rosalie and I are. How could I deny anyone who loves my wife with the same fierceness I do? How could I ever turn away anyone who makes the love of my life happier and in turn makes me happier? Getting you to love me too just took a little more time and work without the supernatural nudge of the mating bond. But really who could resist me?”

Emmet smiles salaciously and flexes his free arm revealing his defined muscles even through the unflattering onesie.

I can’t help but giggle at him. It was true. I had always been certain I was somewhat bisexual and while my attraction to women came more easily and instantaneously, I was still attracted to men too, it was just more of a demisexual experience.

Meeting Rosalie had been like being hit by lightning. An instantaneous and shocking attraction that electrified me and blasted my world apart. Falling for Emmet though was more of a slow burn that eventually kindled to an inferno. His barbarian physique and aura of traditionally masculine air had been off putting a first but over time his deep love for Rosalie, his understanding acceptance of my place as an equal beside his wife, his uncharacteristic gentleness, honour and good humour began to draw me in. Soon the things I usually shied away from in a male partner became things I was attracted to in him. His strength, his helpful nature and his childlike wisdom and honesty. After a year of getting to know the Cullen’s and false starts, followed by two years dating Rosalie I started dating Emmet too and for the last year we have been a happy little trio, a throuple, a triangle, whatever the cool kids want to call it.

The beginning of my courtship with Rosalie was fraught to say the least as she tried to deny our mate bond, her fear of losing Emmet and damaging her mate bond with him driving her to push me away. The rest of the Cullen’s had been hesitant and cautious about our unorthodox relationship too. Edward may have set the precedent for dating a human but that did not make him or any of the other Cullen’s too eager to see the circumstances repeated. Even among vampires and religious types like Edward and Carlisle polyamory was a hard pill to swallow. I thank the universe daily for Jasper who could attest to the reality of our bond and who could testify that while polyamorous relationships may fly under the radar his powers mean their own emotions rat them out to him. In the beginning I was damaged in my own way, human and about the last person any sane person would try to integrate into their relationship. Edward and Carlisle had their religious objections while Jacob and Rosalie were oddly on the same side in rejecting me as some perverted method to save my humanity despite the misery which my human existence was until I met them.

I draw a steadying breath.

“I want to give you both something for Christmas that only I can. Something that is more than a Christmas present…something precious and unique in and of itself, but which is also a commitment.”

Rosalie and Emmet exchange a significant look across me in the bed. A whole silent conversation passing in the blink of an eye. I am beginning to achieve that kind of silent communication with both Rosalie and Emmet but at times like this, seeing the depth of their bond still causes a spike of jealousy that I instantly feel guilty for.

Rosalie’s eyes are huge and glistening with unshed tears as she focuses back on me, “Banbha, are you…are you proposing?”

My breath leaves me in a rush and I sit up in a panic. I have done this all backwards. They are from a different era, a different time. I should have proposed first.

“You, you want to marry me? But you’re married to Emmet, we can’t do that,” I squeaked in a breathy, disbelieving voice.

I can feel Emmet and Rosalie go still beside me, the typical vampire reaction when they are shocked. Their bodies trying to take in all the sensory data they can and their minds racing far faster than humanly possible.

Rosalie’s hand leaves mine and I feel bereft at its loss, her eyes suddenly downcast, fascinated by the sheets thread count.

“So, you’re not proposing?” Emmet asks, his voice quiet and serious.

I cast a desperate look back at him as he now props himself up on one elbow and casts desperate looks to Rosalie who has gone still as a statue.

“No! I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to, it’s just that I can’t. I mean you’re both married to each other, that would be bigamy. And I couldn’t ask you, I wouldn’t want to presume, and I would need a ring. I suppose I could make two but incorporating precious stones isn’t a skill I have yet and…”

Emmet huffs a laugh and sits forward to cut off my desperate ramble with a quick, chaste kiss.

His lips are cool and taste like the most addictive fruit, sweet and heady.

“Calm down Ban, your heart is racing,” Emmet coos.

Rosalie rises to sit beside use, her eyes suddenly fierce and fixed upon me, “So you would marry us?”

I gape for a moment. This conversation has gotten so far away from me that my original destination is no longer even on the same continent.

Something desperate and almost frantic swims in Rosalie’s eyes, as though this question has been lying on her tongue for longer than I can imagine and my answer has the power to destroy or save.

I desperately swivel my head between Rosalie and Emmet, “You’re married, I can’t…”

“We get married every couple of years Banbha. We marry under multiple names and let’s be honest; bigamy is hardly the worst crime we have ever committed. Our marriage may never be strictly legal and might not stand up in some human court but to our family, to our world it would,” Emmet lectures savagely.

“Oh!” I breath in shock. I scoot back on the bed so I can see both of my partners at once, “Yes. I would propose, or I suppose I would marry you both if you propose. Or however this works.”

The smiles that light up Emmet and Rosalie’s faces are nothing short of divine. Angel’s come to earth have nothing on my loves. Rosalie is the picture of beatific joy and Emmet’s dimples make his wide grin appear innocent and cute.

At some unseen signal they dive forward and with a huff of breath I am gently maneuvered to the mattress. Emmet’s arms entangle me in an ecstatic hug as Rosalie’s tongue plunder’s my mouth. The floral tang of her scent invades my senses, and her venom makes my tongue go numb. After a few minutes she draws back, and I am left dazzled and dazed like a man who has just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Rosalie dives past me and kisses Emmet with the same fervour. Their kiss is less restrained than mine and Rosalie’s since they are both vampires and unafraid of breaking each other.

I can feel the familiar tingle of arousal race through my body. A burning need making my thighs clench together and tingles race up my back.

Holy shit! I think I just agreed to marry two of the most beautiful, smart, kind and amazing people I have ever known.

Holy shit.

Rosalie releases Emmet and without pause he dives forward to kiss me too. His kisses start more gently than Rosalie’s, as though he is always afraid that he may hurt me, yet unlike Rosalie he builds up from a chaste press of lips to a marauding , bestial battle of tongue and the faintest teasing of his deadly sharp teeth. His pressure building to the sweet spot just before pain, and when he pulls back I know that my lips are swollen and plump. He smiles in satisfaction at my dazed expression and turns back to peck Rosalie on the lips as they share the taste of me.

Rosalie’s smile is indulgent and satisfied. Her eyes glimmer with wonder as though she can barely believe the reality of the scene before her.

“For the record. Emmet and I will be the ones proposing first. We have more experience at this sort of thing. You can do it next time, or maybe you and Emmet can team up for your first go at it in a few years. Emmet and I have been contemplating asking you for some time now so expect it in the near future,” Rosalie smugly explains.

My brain struggles to make sense of Rosalie’s words as it reboots from being snogged into temporary shutdown.

I thought we had just sort of agreed to get married but by the sounds of things there will be a bit more of a formal production involved. I want to groan at the Cullen need to go over the top about everything but decide that I shouldn’t ruin their fun. Besides, I am so shocked and ecstatic at the idea of marrying the people I love, I don’t think I can rationalise any sort of argument at the moment.

My brain sluggishly struggles to make sense of the last few minutes.

“So uh, I don’t know if my Christmas present applies now or if it should wait?” I say with furrowed brows.

Rosalie’s lips seem welded into a perpetual smile, “Whatever you want to give us could never top this but feel free to try babe.”

Emmet drags me back up into a sitting position facing them and laughs, “I think you made all our Christmases come at once already Banbha, but satisfy my curiosity at least so I can tell Alice and get her Porsche for the weekend. What did you want to give us? I’m sure we’ll love it.”

I gasp in a breath and before I can build up to another nervous panic I say the words I have been planning for the last six months. They drop into the room like a bomb,

“I want to give you a baby.”

As I expected, Rosalie and Emmet freeze as still as statues.

Rosalie looks like she has been carved from stone. Her happiness from a moment ago lost behind decades of sorrow and a sudden weight upon her frame, “We can’t have children Ban. You know this. We can’t adopt, we’re too dangerous to accident prone human children and no child could hide that their parents aren’t aging as we move them all around the world every few years. If you want to have a child…It is totally understandable that you would want to have a baby, I am sure we can help you find a donor and you know we will support you however we can, but you can’t stay here with us and…”

My eyes are wide in shock as Rosalie rambles and I cast a desperate look at Emmet who looks at me with such old sorrow as though I have personally betrayed him.

I cut Rosalie off from her ramble with a single finger over her lips, “Shh Rosalie. We will definitely come back to your assumption that I would leave you to have a child at some point, but you obviously aren’t hearing me. I want to give you both a child. Our child. Emmet’s child.”

Rosalie freezes again and I hear Emmet’s unnecessary breath choke off in his chest from shock.

I can see the thoughts racing through their heads. When I had first become involved with Emmet and we came to the point where he felt safe to attempt a sexual relationship with me after what I believe were many awkward conversations with the Denali’s, Rosalie and Edward, Carlisle pulled me aside and gave me the full visceral story of Renesmee’s origin in as much detail as he could. I had known that Renesmee was the miracle child of Bella and Edward because male vampires can reproduce with female human’s but the realities of the pregnancy and of the need for birth control if I began a sexual relationship with Emmet was an eye opening experience. Carlisle fitted me with a Nexplanaon implant and Emmet got to grips with using extra strength condoms. Needless to say it was an embarrassing set of conversations for everyone and our first time together was planned like a military operation for my safety.

I am 21 now and beginning to look older than both Emmet and Rosalie. I have known the Cullen’s for four years. I have been committed to Rosalie for two years and to both Rosalie and Emmet for a year and I feel ready to have this discussion. I want to have their child. I want to give them that gift and maybe in the process become immortal alongside them too. I want them both, and our child to be my forever.

“No!” Rosalie proclaims in a resounding and final voice.

“No you can’t do this. You can’t have Emmet’s child. Having Renesmee was torture for Bella and she almost didn’t survive. We can’t lose you.”

Rosalie swivels to look at Emmet, “You can’t do this. Having a child isn’t worth the risk of losing her.”

Emmet nods dumbly in mute agreement as he stares uncomprehendingly at me.

Of all the responses, this was not the one I was expecting. A baby of her own has always been Rosalie’s dream. Renesmee may have soothed that need but Rosalie’s greatest wish has always been to have a child who calls her mom. I can give that to her and yet she won’t discuss it, she won’t even entertain the smallest risk to my life. I am simultaneously flattered and more in love with her than ever and insulted at her presumption.

“Rosalie, I talked to Carlisle and to Edward,” I begin.

“They know about this? They would risk you’re life?” Emmet demands furiously.

Panicked now I reach forward to grip their arms and stop them running off in a rage, “No. I asked general questions and I read Carlisle’s notes about Bella’s pregnancy and the research he exchanged between the Volturi and the Amazonian vampires. They have no idea what I am planning, I was always careful to space out my questions and have been thinking about this in one form or another since Carlisle gave me the sex talk last year.”

“You mustn’t have fully understood then. What happened to Bella when she was pregnant was…it was awful. I was selfish and so focused on the baby that I barely saw the horror of it. I can’t…I won’t watch someone I love go through that. To have a child I may have been willing to do it to myself, to risk myself if I could but I could never risk you Banbha,” Rosalie hisses as tears rush to her eyes where they well up but will never fall.

Emmet reaches across and grips Rosalie’s hand as she subtly shakes from the onslaught of emotion.

I sigh and reach out to comfortingly run my hand down her arm and place my own warm hand over Emmet and Rosalie’s entangled fingers.

“You think I wouldn’t be willing to go through that pain and risk for us too Rose? If you would be entitled to make that choice if you could then so must I. Everything I read suggested that if I drink blood from the beginning of the pregnancy I would avoid a lot of the negative side effects that Bella had, and with the right timing we can do a C-section before there is a panicked emergency birth like what Bella went through. I have been looking into the procedure and if Carlisle clamped off my womb’s blood supply before he bites into it to break the amniotic sac then he could delivery the baby and perform an emergency hysterectomy which would remove any venom contamination from my body. I could theoretically stay human for some of the baby’s childhood. If there are complications though then by adapting the technique used on Bella I could receive a large dose of venom by syringe to the heart and each of my extremities to speed up the transition. I want to have our child Rosalie, Emmet. To at least discuss it. I’m not saying we have to do it right now, or even this year, but I want to discuss it. To plan it. I think this is something we could do. Something I could give us.”

Rosalie’s jaw clenches desperately as though she is trying to reign in a tidal wave of emotion.

“I, I need to think,” Rosalie whispers in a broken voice before disappearing at vampire speed out of the room.

Emmet rises to follow but first bends down to cup my face and kiss my forehead, “I don’t know what we will all decide Banbha, but I know we will decide it together. Whatever we finally agree on however, thank you. Thank you for offering. Thank you for being willing to offer this to Rosalie, to me, to us. Thank you.”

With that Emmet speeds from the room and silence reigns.

That is not how I intended this to go.

Merry Christmas to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Kudos? Comments?


End file.
